Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman Chapter 853: Accepting the Invitation

Although Henry had once received an antique reproduction of a Leonardo da Vinci painting as a gift from the couple, he’d also helped them take the blame for something. That made them even.

The digital restoration of old photographs had been a straightforward business transaction, too. Nothing more than professional work.

Although the couple’s actions had effectively given Stark Industries a tremendous advertising boost and earned the company a considerable amount of money, helping them restore precious memories of the past was no small favor either. It was hard to say which side owed the other more.

As for the first time they’d met, when Henry had borrowed their plane, that favor belonged to Givenchy. Henry had merely been an errand boy tagging along for the ride. At most, he’d enjoyed a meal at the man’s home.

But Givenchy had extended an invitation this time as well. His standing with Henry was considerably closer than Mrs. Mellon’s rather distant position in the eyes of a Kryptonian.

Henry had met Givenchy through another Ms. Hepburn: Audrey Hepburn. During the final stretch of Audrey Hepburn’s life, Henry had worked alongside the old gentleman to help her in various ways.

Although this world had somehow made his Hollywood girl disappear, during his time as CEO of Stark Industries, Henry had still occasionally called upon Givenchy, one of the leading designers in the fashion world, for assistance.

All these experiences involved both favors and personal connections. So Henry accepted the invitation to the spring reception without a moment’s hesitation.

The only consideration was the offer to bring a companion. A suitable companion could prove more useful than one might imagine. On the other hand, someone who wasn’t comfortable in such an environment could easily embarrass themselves, leaving both parties in an awkward position.

Henry had absolutely no intention of taking someone along just to broaden their horizons. Instead, he turned toward the old lady, who had been peeking over curiously, and asked, "Kate, have you ever been to Oak Spring Farm? Would you be interested in going with me?"

"You’re asking me?" Katherine Hepburn widened her eyes in disbelief. "Do you think I’m eighteen years old or something?"

"What are you thinking? What are the chances that those young girls won’t embarrass themselves at an event like that? Besides, it’s an art appreciation reception. I need someone knowledgeable to use as a shield so I don’t make a complete fool of myself."

The old lady walked over, looking at the man with undisguised disdain.

"Go memorize an entire book on European art history. That would be far more sensible than pushing me out in front of you to shield you from everyone else’s arrows."

"Haha." Henry gave an awkward laugh, his eyes drifting elsewhere rather than meeting the approaching old lady’s gaze.

"But Mrs. Mellon’s garden must be well worth seeing," he continued. "I’ve never had the chance to visit it myself. The only garden I’ve seen is the White House Rose Garden after Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy commissioned her redesign."

Taking advantage of the opening, Henry cheerfully described the garden at Oak Spring Farm as he remembered it, a place where Rachel Lambert Mellon had left her personal touch in countless little details.

And because it was her own home, the garden wasn’t frozen in time. Under Mrs. Mellon’s direction, it might have taken on an entirely different character since his last visit. Henry’s imaginative, eager descriptions finally began to tempt the old lady.

Katherine Hepburn turned to the butler sent by the Mellon family.

"I hope Mrs. Mellon won’t mind me intruding."

"Of course not, Ms. Hepburn. The films she most enjoys watching these days are your classic movies, digitally restored and colorized. She treasures every one of them and chooses at least one to watch every week."

The butler’s answer astonished both Henry and Katherine Hepburn, though probably for different reasons.

Henry murmured in surprise, "I didn’t realize they’d made so much progress. The public hasn’t heard a thing about it."

Although Henry had a backdoor into the Hollywood Kid, the supercomputer, he didn’t log in every day to check what its operators had been up to.

Still, on reflection, the progress made perfect sense. Digital restoration of old films, along with technology for converting black-and-white footage into color, had been under development for several years. Even if the technology hadn’t improved any further during that time, simplifying the workflow and painstakingly applying the old methods should have produced some results by now.

Those results, however, wouldn’t necessarily make it into theaters. And the home-video market wasn’t yet at a stage where it could properly showcase these high-definition restorations. So it wasn’t surprising that the public remained unaware of the work.

Katherine Hepburn, meanwhile, was delighted to discover that she had a fan around her own age, especially one from the Mellon family. As a thoroughly patriotic, white American, the old lady understood better than most just how much weight the Mellon name carried.

Incidentally, Katherine Hepburn had been born in 1907, while Rachel Lambert Mellon was born in 1910. They were only three years apart.

Seeing the sparkle in the old lady’s eyes, Henry knew there was no need to ask her again. He immediately turned to the butler.

"I’ll attend the reception together with Ms. Katherine Hepburn. Please wait a moment while I write a reply. I’d appreciate it if you could take it back with you."

"Certainly, Mr. Brown."

Having once assisted Audrey Hepburn with organizing various UNICEF fundraising receptions in New York, Henry was no stranger to the etiquette and correspondence involved in high-society events.

He even kept a supply of suitable stationery and envelopes. He simply hadn’t gone so far as to imitate old-money families and their European aristocratic affectations by preparing sealing wax and a personal signet.

Henry returned to his room, wrote a suitably worded letter accepting the invitation, and handed it to the Mellon family butler.

The loyal old servant in his tailcoat then departed to report the outcome of his mission.

People shouldn’t be fooled by the glamorous parties in movies, where the wealthy seem able to show up and spend the evening indulging in pleasure and drunken revelry. The more exclusive the reception appeared, the heavier the workload behind the scenes. Everything might look unrestricted, with guests free to do as they pleased, but the staff had an enormous amount of work to handle.

Security alone could drive an ordinary private security company’s entire team to the brink of collapse. If even a single hair on one guest’s head went missing, it might cost an employee their job.

At this level of society, there was no room for even the slightest mistake.

Otherwise, why would Hollywood movies so often feature plots in which someone desperately tries to steal an invitation just to sneak into a high-society party?

After the Mellon family butler left, Katherine Hepburn was inexplicably giddy. She hummed cheerfully under her breath before asking Henry, "Are you really not going to invite Gwen or Cathy?"

The old lady was practically glowing with happiness. If Henry turned around now and announced that he wasn’t taking her after all, because he was bringing some other young and pretty girls instead, what sort of death would await a Kryptonian?

Henry answered with a perfectly serious expression.

"If we were attending an academic conference on biochemistry, Gwen would be able to contribute a great deal, and she’d probably be quite interested, too. But this kind of event is different.

"Cathy’s situation is much the same. She’d be better suited to a medical conference. An art-focused reception like this might broaden their horizons, sure, but if they ran into someone who treated them like country bumpkins, it could ruin the whole experience."

Katherine Hepburn sighed.

"You certainly understand how these things work. Some of those people are willing to associate with us precisely because they’re hoping to have a laugh at our expense."

"Heh."

Henry knew the story of Grandma Liu visiting the Grand View Garden inside and out. The joke was that everyone thought they belonged to the Jia household. Who would ever imagine that they might be Grandma Liu instead?

Social hierarchies weren’t easy to cross. The higher one climbed, the more seemingly insignificant differences could turn into unbridgeable chasms. Henry had no intention of tearing down the old order, because he had no interest in spending an enormous amount of effort rebuilding a new one.

In that case, the best way to protect the people around him was to keep a respectful distance from that world.

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